


Subject: English Project

by Khoshekh42



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Epistolary, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:35:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24670921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khoshekh42/pseuds/Khoshekh42
Summary: Gabriel gets an email from a college student named Sam. He's interested in this 'Sam' guy, and soon comes to enjoy their back-and-forth emails.Sam accidentally sends his English project to a guy named Gabriel. He finds the guy to be funny, and soon comes to enjoy their back-and-forth emails.When Sam starts hunting and fully expects to be able to cut all ties with his Stanford friends, he finds that not emailing Gabriel is harder than expected.Meanwhile, Gabriel finds himself falling for Sam, hard.
Relationships: Gabriel/Sam Winchester
Comments: 33
Kudos: 141





	1. In which there's much confusion and more than a little drunkenness

To: gshurley@gmail.com

From: swwinche@stanford.edu

Subject: English Project

Hey Gwen, I finished my paragraph for the English project. I just wanted to make sure that you were okay with it before I submitted it.

Also, if we’re going to be comparing Cicero’s epideictic styles, I felt that we should at least include a definition of ‘epideictic’ so I added put one in at the end of the word doc, and I added the source to our bibliography.

Thanks for all your help on this, I wouldn’t have gotten through it without your Latin help.

Sam

Attached: English- Cicero.docx

* * *

To: swwinche@stanford.edu

From: gshurley@gmail.com

Subject: English Project

Uhhh… I think you’ve got the wrong email dude.

I’m not Gwen Shurley, I’m _Gabriel_ Shurley, and I think this girl gave you the wrong email address. I don’t think she wants to do this Cicero project and I don’t blame her.

Your paragraph looks good, but you but his date of death at 42 BC and not 43 BC.

Gabriel

* * *

To: gshurley@gmail.com

From: swwinche@stanford.edu

Subject: English Project

Gabriel,

I am so sorry about the mix up, I was emailing a Gwen S. Hurley from Stanford, and I guess I forgot to put @stanford.edu instead of @gmail.com.

Gwen does want to do the project, (she suggested Cicero as a subject, in fact).

Thanks for catching that! I didn’t even notice, and it saved me the embarrassment of having Gwen catch something stupid like that. Did/do you study classics? Wouldn’t think that the year of Cicero’s assassination is common knowledge.

Thanks again,

Sam

* * *

To: swwinche@stanford.edu

From: gshurley@gmail.com

Subject: English Project

Samwise,

I may be some rando, but I know more than you might think.

But nah, I don’t think December 7th of 43 BC would be a date that many would automatically know to be the day of Marcus Tullius Cicero’s assassination.

Neither did I, until I googled it.

You gotta learn how to do that, Sammy.

Yours truly,

Gabriel

* * *

To: gshurley@gmail.com

From: swwinche@stanford.edu

Subject: English Project

Gabriel,

Don’t ever call me Sammy again. Only my brother was allowed to do that.

Cordially,

_Sam_

* * *

To: swwinche@stanford.edu

From: gshurley@gmail.com

Subject: English Project

Sam-I-Am,

Oh, so this is gonna become a thing between you and me? Emailing back and forth?

Good to know, Sammich.

But a no to Sammy? You didn’t even _mention_ Samwise?

Amiably (if we’re gonna get fancy, Mr. Stanford),

Gabriel

* * *

To: gshurley@gmail.com

From: swwinche@stanford.edu

Subject: English Project

Gabriel

Samwise is good, because Samwise Gamgee is awesome.

Sammy is just… childish.

Also I might nix Sammich while we’re at it.

Ave atque vale,

Sam

* * *

To: swwinche@stanford.edu

From: gshurley@gmail.com

Subject: English Project

Sammich

Nah, you only get one to try to nix, and you’ve already chosen.

Toodles (You and your Latin can shove it),

Gabriel

* * *

To: gshurley@gmail.com

From: swwinche@stanford.edu

Subject: English Project

Gabriel

You’re an ass.

Fuck you,

Sam

* * *

To: gshurley@gmail.com

From: swwinche@stanford.edu

Subject: i miss you

gabe

sorry i was a dick earlier i shouldnt have been i though it would be a good joke

anyway theres a bar on campus and they have this drink called adios motherfucker and its good

please email me again ill even let you call me sammy

adios motherfucker but nicely

sam

* * *

To: swwinche@stanford.edu

From: gshurley@gmail.com

Subject: i miss you

Sammy,

Woah there bucko, take it easy on the drinks? You seem like a smart guy with the Latin and all, so I’m gonna assume that you were able to get back to your home or dorm or whatever safely. Don’t go crazy on my account.

I had to deal with some unrelated stuff, so I was away from my computer and phone all afternoon, sorry that I left you hanging, I didn’t even catch your first email until you’d already sent the second. I certainly didn’t mean to cause you any sort of pain from my absence.

Don’t think that just because you were drunk I won’t totally take advantage of your allowing me to call you Sammy.

Good to know you missed me though ;)

Love ya kiddo

Gabriel

* * *

To: gshurley@gmail.com

From: swwinche@stanford.edu

Subject: Oh boy

Gabriel

Last night was… Something.

Sorry that I emailed you while totally drunk, that was somewhat embarrassing to wake up to.

You seem to be handling it well, so I won’t push any further on that front.

Unfortunately, my allowing you to call me Sammy _is_ in writing, and that would hold up in a court of law (I should know by now, I’m three years into earning my bachelors in law), even though I wasn’t even a semblance of sober when I was writing it.

So, regrettably,

Sammy

P.S. Course I missed you! You’re my best email-friend!

* * *

To: swwinche@stanford.edu

From: gshurley@gmail.com

Subject: Oh boy

Sammy!

Hot fucking shit, I knew you were a smart bastard, but _law school_ is a whole nother ballgame.

I can certainly sympathize with getting roaring drunk and doing stupid things. Remind me to tell you about my time at a party in Rome later if you can convince me to tell you about it.

On the topic of ‘Sammy’, you mentioned that only your brother was allowed to call you that. If you don’t mind me asking, do you not get along with him or…? I can certainly sympathize with estranged family, and if you ever wanna talk about it, I’ll be here.

Ciao,

Gabriel

P.S. Do you have _other_ email-friends that I should be jealous of?

* * *

To: gshurley@gmail.com

From: swwinche@stanford.edu

Subject: Oh boy

Gabriel,

First of all, did you know that ‘a-whole-nother’ is one of the only (non-profane) examples of tmesis (which I just found out that my email doesn’t recognize as a word, so, ha! Fuck you Stanford, I’m smarter than you!), or cutting a word in half to interject ‘a-whole-nother’ word. Other (profane) examples include un-fucking-believable, and abso-fucking-lutely.

As for my brother… We don’t talk much anymore. He sided with our father that I shouldn’t be going to school instead of continuing the family business. But I got a full ride into Stanford, and I wasn’t going to throw that away. Besides, my father and I never really got along. My brother and I did, but I wouldn’t be able to contact him without him telling our dad anyway.

But enough of my sob story. You said you and your family were estranged?

Sorry for spilling my bullshit on you,

Sam

P.S. None. You’re the only one. You’re my favorite and least favorite email-friend I have!

* * *

To: swwinche@stanford.edu

From: gshurley@gmail.com

Subject: Oh boy

Sammy,

Tmesis is abso-fucking-lutely fascinating. How the fuck do you know this shit?

My family and I… we were never close. Or, when we were, it was so long ago that it hardly even matters anymore. My family was doing some shit I don’t agree with, so I left. I left them all. Like you with your brother, I left some people that I would like to reconnect with, but… they’d tell my brothers that I don’t want to see. They’d tell my dad if they even knew where he was.

But I don’t wanna weigh you down with my shitty past.

Although, if I may intrude a bit, I think maybe you should try reaching out to your brother at some point? I miss some of my siblings, and I do have some hope that I can see them again someday.

Sorry if my advice is shit,

Gabriel

* * *

To: gshurley@gmail.com

From: swwinche@stanford.edu

Subject: Oh boy

Gabriel

I’m sorry to hear that my dad’s not the only shitty one out there. You said your dad is missing? That seems rough, even if he isn’t the best dad.

As for your advice—I do want to contact my brother, but like I said, I don’t want him telling everything we talk about to our dad. It’s not like they don’t know where I am, but it’s… complicated. I feel like you’ll understand that.

Thanks for worrying, your advice isn’t shit, but my dad is, so…

It’s always nice to hear from you,

Sam

* * *

To: swwinche@stanford.edu

From: gshurley@gmail.com

Subject: I think I’m drunk

Hey-yo, Sammy.

It’s currently three o’clock in the morning where I’m at. Not even sure where I am. Somewhere in the ass-end of Texas right now. The stars are beautiful, and I just keep looking at them, and feeling like I finally understand the phrase “feeling small in the grand scheme of things”.

But fuck, as beautiful as nature and that shit is, _humanity_ is so much more beautiful. Sure, it has its assholes and idiot motherfuckers, but shit… Some of humanity is just so lovely.

Fuck I miss it, Sammy. I miss my old life, where my family just fucking got along.

I’ve been all sorts of fucked for a long time. Longer than you would understand.

But then you emailed me about Cicero. Dunno why I even had this email address set up on my phone. I think I needed an email for some website that I wanted to visit. Think it was something I wanted to cook, and the stupid website wanted an email.

But that doesn’t even matter.

I’m so glad you emailed me, Sammy. I think, in a weird way, I actually feel so… human. This thing we have feels so real, so concrete.

I think I’m in love with you.

Isn’t that sad, Sam? It’s been a matter of months, and I think I’m falling in love with you.

I’m definitely drunk. That hasn’t happened in a long time.

Anyway, I think I’m gonna pass out for a few hours.

Love,

Gabriel

* * *

To: swwinche@stanford.edu

From: gshurley@gmail.com

Subject: Shit

I’m so sorry.

Please don’t read into that email too much.

I hope I haven’t fucked up too bad, this time.

If you hate me now, that’s fine, but at least tell me that. Give me some closure?

I hope you at least remember some of the good moments of our email exchange, not just the weird bullshit I pulled in my last email.

Fuck,

Gabriel

* * *

To: swwinche@stanford.edu

From: gshurley@gmail.com

Subject: (no subject)

I’m sorry.

Gabriel


	2. In which apologies are made, and there are dicks

To: gshurley@gmail.com

From: samwin42@gmail.com

Subject: I’m sorry

Gabriel,

It’s been a rough few weeks. I don’t know if you’ve sent anything past my last email to you, because I left Stanford.

My brother came and told me that our dad is missing, and my girlfriend ended up dying shortly afterwards.

Shit that makes it sound like he killed her. He didn’t.

In any case, I’m not at Stanford anymore, and so I don’t have access to my Stanford email account. So, if you tried to contact me, I’m sorry.

But since my dad’s missing, and I’m not at Stanford anymore, my brother and I have been looking for him.

Sorry, that’s a lot for me to dump on you all at once.

I just need a friend right now, and I don’t want to talk to my Stanford friends. Most of them were more friends with Jess than they were with me.

Hope I don’t scare you off,

Sam

* * *

To: samwin42@gmail.com

From: gshurley@gmail.com

Subject: I’m sorry

Sammy,

Shit. That is a lot.

Not that I mind you telling me! That’s heavy stuff for you to have to deal with on your own. I’m glad that you’re talking to me.

Fuck, I thought I’d scared you away, somehow. So, basically, I’m glad you didn’t just toss out my email address.

Hey, do you want me to give you my phone number? In case you ever need to talk, not face to face, but y’know, _talk_. I won’t force it on you, just… If you want it, I’ll give it to you.

As for your dad, I know how you feel. My dad’s been missing for some time now. And shit, I thought I was over being pissed at him for it, but occasionally shit comes up and I realize I’m just as mad as I was when my brothers and sisters and I realized he was gone.

It does get easier, the ‘dad being gone’ thing. Especially since mine was a shit father.

As for your girlfriend… that gets easier to deal with, too. Sort of. I’ve fallen in love once or twice, and one time he ended up getting killed by some zealots that thought they knew what religion meant. That was a long time ago, though.

But I don’t mean to dump my past on you, my past that I’ve mostly dealt with. I just wanted to say that I can understand what you’re feeling right now.

How’s your brother doing? I know you wanted to get to talk to him again (obviously not like this), so I hope he’s doing okay with everything that’s going on.

You could never scare me off, I should be the one scaring you off,

Gabriel

* * *

To: gshurley@gmail.com

From: samwin42@gmail.com

Subject: I’m sorry

Gabriel,

I’m sorry about your old boyfriend. That sounds awful. Religious nuts are the worst, huh?

Yeah I figure it’ll get easier, but… I just don’t want to end up like my dad. My mom was died when I was just a baby, and my dad went nuts trying to figure out how she died.

My family’s kinda fucked up.

My family’s _luck_ is kinda fucked.

In any case. I’m glad you responded; I would have hated to lose you along with everything else.

And, yeah. I think I’d like your phone number.

Mine is 650-846-1701.

Thanks,

Sam

* * *

(269) 782-0159: Hey Samwise, it’s Gabriel

Sam: Gabriel! Hey, that was quick!

Gabriel: Of course! I couldn’t leave you hanging ;)

Sam: Right

Gabriel: Now that you have my number doesn’t mean you’re allowed to stop sending me cool facts over email

Sam: Of course not, I wouldn’t have dreamed of it.

Sam: I’ve gotta go for now, Dean’s exhausted even if he won’t admit it, and I need to force him to let me drive for a while.

Gabriel: Talk later, Sammy.

* * *

Sam: What do you do, anyway?

Gabriel: Whatcha mean, Samwise?

Sam: Like, for work.

Gabriel: Odd jobs here and there. I move around a lot. I’m in California right now and, shit, you wouldn’t believe the assholes out here.

Sam: Makes sense. Hollywood is right there.

Gabriel: True

Gabriel: What about you?

Sam: Same as you, actually. Since I’m not in college anymore, I’ve gotta pick up what I can.

Gabriel: I would say stay in school and don’t do drugs, but I never went to school, and drugs can be fun so that would be super fuckin hypocritical of me.

Sam: A little bit, yeah.

Sam: And honestly, don’t do drugs, dumbass.

Gabriel: Buzzkill.

Sam: I prefer ‘reasonable’, but buzzkill works.

Gabriel: How about reasonable buzzkill?

Sam: Perfect.

* * *

Sam: If you don’t mind me asking, what’s going on with your dad? You mentioned he was missing.

Dean: Dude he’s your dad too. Are you forgetting shit now?

Sam: Wrong number, Dean.

Dean: Oh? Were you meaning to text whatever girl it is you’ve been texting?

Sam: What??

Dean: You’ve been texting someone and you always have this stupid grin on your face when you do it.

Sam: Okay, first of all- fuck off, I can text who I want. Secondly- his name is Gabriel. Don’t try to twist this into something it’s not, he’s a friend.

Dean: But you had a girlfriend.

Sam: What? What does that have to do with anything?

Dean: So… are you gay now?

Sam: Jesus Christ, Dean, don’t be an idiot. I’m pansexual, not gay, not straight. And like I said, he’s a FRIEND, not anything more. I’ve never even met the guy.

Dean: So you met him on, what, tinder?

Sam: I accidentally emailed him a project back at school and we got to talking.

Sam: Stop texting me. You are at the store already, right? You haven’t been texting while driving?

Dean: Dude. Chill. Yes, I’m at the store.

Sam: Get those good pretzels.

Dean: Fine.

* * *

Sam: If you don’t mind me asking, what’s going on with your dad? You mentioned he was missing.

Gabriel: Yeah, he fucked off and left. He’s less missing and more hiding from all of his kids.

Sam: I’m sorry

Gabriel: Eh, I’ve had a while to deal with it. It sucks but I’m fairly over it.

Sam: Still, that sucks.

Gabriel: Yeah. It kind of does.

Gabriel: Like, it’s shitty. I still care about him, but at the same time I just fucking hate him.

Sam: I get that. My dad’s a dick. But I still feel weirdly like I have to find him, otherwise I’ve failed him.

Gabriel: I understand more than I should. My dad’s a hard guy to let down. He lets you know when you’ve failed him, and I know I’ve already disappointed him enough for a about ten thousand lifetimes.

Sam: Are you and your family looking for him? I know you said you don’t get along with your siblings, but still…

Gabriel: I looked for him for a while on my own, but beyond that, and the weak search that the rest of my family did, there’s not much we could do. If he wants to stay hidden, then he will.

Sam: I’m sorry.

Gabriel: Like I said, I’m fairly over it. Now—the rest of my family is still there so I can’t fucking so much as think about going home without thinking about having to deal with their shit again, which I _really_ don’t want.

Sam: Where is home for you? If you don’t mind me asking

Gabriel: West Virginia. I’m back in Ohio right now, though. Which feels more home now than the family place in West Virginia has in a long time.

Sam: I was actually in Ohio last month!

Gabriel: I’m sorry we didn’t get to meet lol

Sam: Yeah, I kind of am, too. I’m just about at wits end with my dad’s shit. I could use a break. I’m in Oklahoma now, and I’d love to be anywhere but in Dean’s car.

Gabriel: Shitty car, or just driving for a while?

Sam: It’s an okay car, though I’d never say that in front of him, he’d probably crucify me for heresy. He thinks the car is amazing, he calls it his ‘baby’. But yeah. We’ve been driving for about eight hours now. We’re only about two hours out, though, so that’s something.

Gabriel: I don’t think I could stand being cooped up for eight hours.

Sam: You kinda get used to it with the kind of childhood I had.

Gabriel: Oof.

Sam: Ha, yeah, that sums it up just a bit.

Sam: Shit, Dean’s trying to grab my phone, gotta go.

Gabriel: Do you want me to send a picture of my dick to fuck with him?

Sam: Who the fuck offers to send a dick pic just to fuck with a guy’s brother? -Dean

Gabriel: [Picture Attached]

Sam: I’ve got my phone back, Gabe. Dean threw it back when he saw the dick pic.

Gabriel: You’re welcome.

Sam: Nice dick

Gabriel: Thanks ;)


	3. In which there are bionic clits

Gabriel: [Picture Attached]

Sam: Sam-I-Am? Real original. I expected more from you

Gabriel: [Picture Attached]

Gabriel: How about this

Sam: I do not look like Yosemite Sam

Gabriel: How the fuck am I supposed to know that?

Sam: [Picture Attached]

Gabriel: …You do not look like Yosemite Sam

Sam: [Picture Attached]

Gabriel: What the fuck is a churchkitten

Sam: It’s a cat! Named Gabriel Churchkitten!

Gabriel: This is a book????

Sam: Listen, it’s from the forties.

Gabriel: Ah

Sam: I don’t know why I’m defending it, I literally just googled it. There aren’t many good fictional Gabriels.

Sam: WAIT

Sam: [Picture Attached]

Sam: Archangel Gabriel

Gabriel: You’re shitting me

Sam: ?

Gabriel: What? You didn’t know you were talking to the actual Archangel Gabriel?

Sam: You’re no angel, you sent me a picture of your dick before your face.

Gabriel: Point taken.

Gabriel: [Picture Attached]

Sam: Damn. Who would have thought the Archangel Gabriel looks like a little bitch. We should tell the church.

Gabriel: Rude.

* * *

To: gshurley@gmail.com

From: samwin42@gmail.com

Subject: Martial

I was going through some of my old school work on my computer, and I found mention of the ancient Roman poet Martial, who I think is the funniest asshole I’ve ever heard of.

Anyway, I was looking through some of his epigrams (short poems), and I found this one which I thought you would appreciate.

This is an actual translation.

Bassa, I never saw you hang with guys--

Nobody whispered that you had a beau.

Girls surrounded you at every turn;

They did your errands, with no attendant males.

And so, I guess I naturally assumed

That you were what you seemed: a chaste Lucretia.

But hell no. Why, you shameless little tramp,

You were an active humper all the time.

You improvised, by rubbing cunts together,

And using that bionic clit of yours

To counterfeit the thrusting of a male.

Unbelievable. You've managed to create

A real conundrum, worthy of the Sphinx:

Adultery without a co-respondent.

The Romans were fucking wild, huh?

I told you I’d send you more interesting emails,

Sam

* * *

To: samwin42@gmail.com

From: gshurley@gmail.com

Subject: Martial

You’re absolutely right, I love it. ‘Bionic’? I’m fucking cackling and picturing some woman getting a robot clit.

The Romans were so weird, you don’t need to tell me about it, I know.

But honestly, fuck the Romans. Shitheads.

Anyway.

Glad you’re still emailing me, Sammy.

Perhaps I’ll have to start sending you interesting facts over email,

Gabriel

* * *

Sam: Any specific reason you don’t like the Romans?

Gabriel: Eh, they were just shitheads. Fuck Caesar. Fuck Pontius Pilates.

Sam: Isn’t that the guy from Life of Brian?

Gabriel: Yes and no. He was, but he was also an actual dude. He was the guy that sent Jesus to be crucified.

Sam: I didn’t realize you were religious.

Gabriel: Once again, yes and no. It’s more that I have faith than me being actually religious. My family is super religious, so I believe, but it’s not like I go to church or anything. Most Christians these days have a skewed view of it all anyway.

Sam: Interesting.

Gabriel: What, you got a problem with it?

Sam: No! Not at all, it’s just that I wouldn’t take you for the type. I dunno it makes you more human somehow.

Gabriel: Oh, so now I’m not HUMAN?

Sam: That’s not what I meant and you know it.

Gabriel: I know, I know. I’m just teasing. I’m not really sure why I still have such faith to be honest. I think it’s the joy that you can feel from the good parts.

Sam: Did you have a good… pastor? Priest? As a kid? (I’m not well versed in the intricacies of religion, sorry).

Gabriel: Sort of. Back when my dad used to give a shit, when I was really young, he was always so… excited about it all. The sort of biblical stories I could tell, Sam.

Gabriel: I do miss it sometimes. I miss being… invested in something. Being part of something bigger than myself.

Gabriel: Then again, I AM pretty big ;)

Sam: I saw

Gabriel: And did you like? ;)

Sam: Ask me sometime when I’m drunk

Gabriel: Ooh

Sam: On a more serious note

Sam: You mentioned once that you had hope that you’d see some of your siblings again, do you think you’ll ever reach out to any of them? I mean, I’m back with my brother now, and it’s nice. At least, the familial companionship is nice.

Gabriel: Way to take a turn for the not-so-sexy, Sammy.

Gabriel: I don’t know, though. Maybe. Something big’ll probably end up happening at some point, and I’ll be forced to talk to them, but… So many of them are just, I dunno, they wouldn’t get me. They wouldn’t understand why I left, they wouldn’t get why I like what I like. I’ve always been a bit of a black sheep.

Sam: I don’t mean to be intrusive, but does that have anything to do with your sexuality? You mentioned that you had a boyfriend, right? And if your family is religious…

Gabriel: Not really, actually. Well, sort of. My dad never cared about that sort of shit, but a lot of my siblings do.

Sam: That sucks, about your siblings. My dad never seemed the accepting sort, so I never told him that I’m pan. (Though, to be fair, I didn’t realize it until after I’d gone to college and severed all ties with him, but the point stands). Dean’s alright about that sort of thing. I think. I told him about my being pan recently and he just went right on teasing me about my ‘crush’ or whatever.

Gabriel: Ooh, who is this crush of yours?

Sam: Oh, it’s nothing. No one, that is. It’s been hard to ‘get back out there’ so to speak after Jess.

Gabriel: She was your girlfriend at Stanford?

Sam: Yeah.

Gabriel: I’m sorry.

Sam: You’re technically the only friend I have now, other than Dean, though I hardly think that counts.

Sam: Shit, that was sad wasn’t it?

Gabriel: Kinda was, kiddo.

Sam: Kiddo?

Gabriel: I’m older than you, Sam. I’m wayyy past college age.

Sam: You looked pretty young to me in that picture you sent.

Gabriel: You really know how to flatter a guy dontcha?

Sam: Whatever you wanna believe, Gabe.

Gabriel: Then I’ll choose to take everything you’ve said as explicit flattery.

Sam: You suck.

Gabriel: Hell yeah I do ;)

* * *

Dean: Sam, I swear to god if I get back and you’re still texting your boyfriend Gabriel, I’m gonna break your fucking phone. RESEARCH DUDE.

Sam: Fuck off, Dean, he’s not my boyfriend. And I wasn’t texting him.

Dean: Uh huh.

Sam: …I’ll start the research.

Dean: Jesus christ, Sam. I thought you liked the nerdy research shit.

Sam: Shut up.

* * *

Sam: I have to get to research for Dean, he’s pestering me about it.

Gabriel: Oh? What kind of research, something I could help you with?

Sam: Not really, sorry. Talk later.


	4. In which there are chick flick moments

Sam: Hey, Dean?

Dean: Any reason you’re texting me instead of walking the ten feet that it would take to walk to my room?

Sam: Just making sure that you weren’t hooking up with some girl before I started talking to you, jerk. Or is there a different reason you got us separate rooms tonight?

Dean: Bitch. It may have crossed my mind, but this bed is comfortable.

Dean: Now why are you texting me?

Dean: Sam? You still there?

Sam: Yeah

Sam: Give me a sec

Sam: I think I’m in love with Gabriel.

\---Call from: Dean---

Sam: “Hey.”

Dean: “So, you’re finally owning up to your massive crush on email guy?”

Sam: “…Maybe. I dunno. I might’ve just had too much to drink tonight, but… Dean, he’s been the only stable thing in my life for the past six months, besides you. The idea of having one thing, just one, that’s, I dunno, normal? Even a little bit normal, through all of this shit… it’s nice.”

Dean: “So, what? That means you’re in love with the guy? You haven’t even met.”

Sam: “Maybe? It could just be the idea of him, the idea of a normal life. But… he’s kind, he always listens when I have to vent. And he always makes me feel better after a shitty day, even if I know he’s trying to distract me. Hell, he always seems to _notice_ when I’ve had a shitty day. Even when I’m not having a bad day, he’s able to make me… happy. Or sometimes not even just happy, _content_. That’s a hell of a nice feeling after the shit I’ve been dealing with, between dad, and hunting, and Jess. And he’s funny, always knows how to make me laugh. And, _god_ , Dean, I’ve seen one picture of the guy and he’s just… radiant. Like he could do nothing but smile at me and I’d just… melt.”

Dean: “Sam…”

Sam: “I know. I know nothing will ever come of it. You’re right, we’ve never even met. But just the thought of nothing coming of this, of this _ending_ at some point… it just _hurts._ ”

Dean: “…I don’t know what to say, Sammy.”

Sam: “Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

Dean: “I’ll kick your ass if you try to talk about this to me ever again, but it’s one in the morning, so… I care about you, Sammy. I don’t want you getting hurt by some guy you met in the weirdest fuckin’ way possible, but, if you really feel like that, if you really think you love him… maybe tell him? I’m not an expert on relationships by any means, but I sure as hell know that that tone of voice you’ve been using isn’t used by a guy who doesn’t have it bad for someone. And if he’s all that you’ve said—if he’s _there_ for you like you’ve said—I dunno, you’re always texting him about some shit, and that means that he’s responding, and no one texts _that_ much without having some feelings or whatever. Even platonic, the dude clearly cares about you, which is a point in his favor in my books. That being said… even if you were able to make a relationship with this guy, getting into a relationship while dealing with hunting shit is a bad idea, and if you really—if you really love him, then it’d probably be kinder to not force him into the life. And having a secret as big as hunting isn’t great for a relationship. I know that shit’s hard to hear, but… I just want to make sure that you understand what you’d be getting yourself into with this. I want you to be happy, Sam, you’re my brother. But… ahem, no chick flick moments, all that.”

Sam: “…”

Dean: “Are you… crying?”

Sam: “Maybe a little. That was sweet, Dean.”

Dean: Shut up. You heard me, no chick flick moments. Bitch.”

Sam: “Jerk. If you didn’t want a chick flick moment, you shouldn’t have started one.”

Dean: “What do you mean, started one? Like you didn’t literally text me at ass o’clock in the morning telling me you’re in love.”

Sam: “Fair.”

Dean: “Damn straight it’s fair.”

Sam: “Not quite straight.”

Dean: “Sam?”

Sam: "Yes, Dean?"

Dean: “Shut the fuck up.”

Sam: “Whatever you want, Dean.”

Dean: “Yeah, right.”

Dean: “So, uh… what are you going to do?”

Sam: “I dunno. You were right about not getting into a relationship while hunting. Maybe I should wait until after we find dad to say anything. Then I can tell him, and… if he feels the same, I’ll have you drop me off in whatever town he’s in.”

Dean: “That doesn’t negate the whole ‘hunting as a secret’ thing.”

Sam: “Yeah, but I mean, that’s the case no matter what happens, if I ever want a shot at a normal life I’ll have to keep that a secret.

Dean: “So… you’re planning on leaving once we find dad?”

Sam: “Well, yeah. I thought you knew that. I never wanted this life. That’s why I went to Stanford. I’m not like you and dad.”

Dean: “Yeah. ‘Course.”

Sam: “Dean…”

Dean: “No, yeah. I get it. You deserve your apple pie life with your Gabriel, if he’ll have you.”

Sam: “I’ll make sure to stay in touch this time, if you want.”

Dean: “Yeah. Sounds good.”

Sam: “Dean?”

Dean: “Hm?”

Sam: “Would you ever stop hunting, given the opportunity?”

Dean: “Nah. I mean, what would I even do? I’m too fucked to have a normal life at this point.”

Sam: “You don’t know that. Maybe you just need to meet the right person to settle down with.”

Dean: “Ha! That’s funny, Sammy. I don’t settle down for anyone.”

Sam: “Okay, Dean.”

Sam: “Oh and Dean?”

Dean: “Yeah?”

Sam: “Thanks.”

Dean: “…Anytime.”

\---Call ended---

* * *

Gabriel: Hey Sambo, how’s your morning going?

Sam: Good. I had a nice chat with Dean.

Gabriel: Oh? What about?

Sam: Nothing that matters right now.

Sam: Hey Gabe?

Gabriel: Yeah?

Sam: Thanks for responding to all my shitty emails and texts.

Gabriel: Only for you, Sammy.

Sam: I’ve got to get some breakfast, talk later.

Gabriel: Talk later, Sam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to Marranje to motivating me to write this! And thanks to everyone else who's commented!


	5. In which Gabriel makes the wrong choice

Gabriel: Hey Sam

Gabriel: Hey Sammy

Gabriel: Saaaaaam

Gabriel: Sammyyyyyyyyy

Gabriel: Good talk

* * *

Gabriel: Sam

Gabriel: Sam

Gabriel: Sam?

Gabriel: It’s been a while, is everything okay?

* * *

Sam: We found dad.

Gabriel: Are you okay?

Sam: There was a car accident not too long after.

Gabriel: Fuck, Sam, are you hurt?

Sam: I’m not.

Sam: Dean… doesn’t look good.

Gabriel: Oh god, Sam…

Sam: I’ve gotta go, I’ll keep you updated.

Gabriel: I’m so sorry Sam.

Sam: I know.

* * *

Sam: What if Dean doesn’t make it, Gabe?

Sam: What happens to me if he dies?

Sam: I’d be stranded in the middle of nowhere, with no goal, no safety net, nothing.

Sam: The most I’d have is Dean’s car and my fucking father, who I hate now more than ever. What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?

Gabriel: I can’t tell you what to do, but… I can relate to losing a sibling. I had a brother that I was so close to, but… he left, kinda like I did, and my father cut all ties with him. This was back when I was a lot younger, so I was still wholeheartedly on my dad’s side. Him leaving… It kind of left me hopeless. My family knew that I’d been close to him, so they just kind of kept me at arm’s length, cause hey—if he left like he did, I might too, I felt pretty alone. But you don’t have to be. If Dean dies, I’ll be there for you Sam. I’ll come get you, and you won’t have to be alone.

Sam: Okay. Thanks.

Sam: I’ve gotta go, visiting hours are over.

* * *

Sam: Dean’s gonna be fine.

Sam: But dad’s dead.

Sam: I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel.

Gabriel: Shit, Sam.

Sam: Dean’s not processing anything, and I just feel so helpless. Like I could have done something to save dad, but… even still, I know you aren’t supposed to speak ill of the dead and all, but he wasn’t a great father, and after everything that happened when we found him… it just left us with a weird relationship. And now I just feel so guilty and I just… don’t know what to do.

Gabriel: It’s okay to not know what to do. And it’s okay to have a complicated relationship with a dead or missing father—I know that personally. If your dad wasn’t a great dad, you’re allowed to acknowledge that, even now. My dad might be dead for all anyone knows, but I’ll still say that he was pushy as fuck, and didn’t know when to stop and let things go. Everything had to be his way or no way. But, even after all of that, I can still feel sad that he’s not around. And you’re allowed the same feeling.

Sam: Thanks. I think I needed to hear that.

Gabriel: Anytime.

* * *

\---Call from: Sammy---

Sam: “Gabe?”

Gabriel: “Sam! What’s up, we’ve never talked on the phone before.”

Sam: “Oh! Is this stepping out of line?”

Gabriel: “Not at all, just surprised is all. What’s up, Samwise?”

Sam: “I just… I dunno, maybe this is stupid.”

Gabriel: “Impossible. I refuse to believe anything you could say could be stupid.”

Sam: “Well, my brother had a pretty close brush with death recently. Again, ha.”

Gabriel: “Shit, he okay?”

Sam: “Yeah, he’s fine. Like, how many times can he nearly die, right? Anyway, it got me thinking. Some of the… odd jobs that Dean and I do are kind of, well, dangerous. And I just got to thinking that—y’know what? No, this is stupid, you don’t want me to—”

Gabriel: “Of course I want to hear. I’ll always listen. Especially now that I know that your voice just as drop dead sexy as you look.”

Sam: “Ha… You know, you sound exactly how I imagined.”

Gabriel: “You know, if you don’t want to talk about the actual reason you called, we could always just… chat. I’m not gonna force you to talk about anything you don’t wanna—"

Sam: “I think I’m in love with you.”

Gabriel: “…”

Sam: “Shit. Fuck, I’m sorry. That was… I shouldn’t have—”

Gabriel: “I think I love you too, Sam.”

Sam: “Oh…”

Sam: “Okay.”

Gabriel: “Ha! Sam, I just spilled my guts to you here, and you say ‘okay’?

Sam: “To be fair, I spilled my guts to you first.”

Gabriel: “Yeah. I’ll give you that.”

Sam: “…”

Sam: “So, what now?”

Gabriel: “Shit, Samwise, you think I know?”

Sam: “I don’t know! I mean, I kind of pictured this going differently?”

Gabriel: “Really? You thought I wasn’t head over heels for you? Sheesh, I thought I was being pretty obvious.”

Sam: “Well then, I’m just oblivious, apparently.”

Dean: “Sammy! What are you doing, I’ve still got—”

Sam: “Dean shut up, I’m on the phone!”

Dean: “Who the fuck are you—oh.”

Sam: “Yeah, now fuck off.”

Gabriel: “So… that’s Dean-o, huh?”

Sam: “Ha! When you meet him, don’t call him that, he’ll flip out.”

Gabriel: “Oh it’s ‘when’ now?”

Sam: “Fuck, I didn’t—”

Gabriel: “I’ll keep that in mind for when I meet him.”

Sam: “Okay. Hey, I’m gonna step out, so that Dean can’t listen in.”

Sam: “…”

Sam: “Now what?”

Gabriel: “…”

Gabriel: “Sam… I’m kind of at a loss for what I can do here. On the one hand I’m happy—beyond happy, really. But then at the same time, it’s just… I wouldn’t be good for you, Sam.”

Sam: “What do you mean, not good for me? Gabe, shit, you’re the only thing really keeping me grounded this past year or so, I’m—I mean—I would be so… lost if you weren’t there for me. I wouldn’t be in a good place at all. You’ve always been good for me.”

Gabriel: “But you barely know me, Sam, and honestly, I’m scared about what you’ll say when you find out who I really am.”

Gabriel: “You really are better off without me, Sam.”

Sam: “What are you saying?”

Gabriel: “I’m saying goodbye, Sam.”

Sam: “You’re saying—? Gabe!”

\---Call ended---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about that guys... I promise next update will be happier.


End file.
